


Juicy California Nectarines

by Bisexuowl



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 09:37:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9433217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bisexuowl/pseuds/Bisexuowl
Summary: During a supply stop on their New England road trip, Hercules finds himself in Grocery Paradise: A small town supermarket where everything is on sale.  Herc goes on a shopping spree, much to the squad's chagrin, but will he get all that stuff in the car?  And will he really have to tie Alex to the roof?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, it's my first story on Ao3! A couple quick things:  
> This is my first Hamilton fanfic ever, so I hope you all like it.  
> I based the store after my local Market Basket because they're the best.  
> I'd like to thank my dearest lafbaeyette for the support, proofreading, and help with the French.  
> Alright, let's do this.

Past a community bulletin board, through double automatic doors was the entrance to paradise.  
  
A line of fully-manned registers greeted the needy throng that gathered their baskets and carts. Sweet breads and pastries beckoned the hungry deeper into its white and red checkered depths.  
  
“It’s beautiful.”  
  
“It’s covered in sawdust.” John complained, lifting his shoe to inspect its tread. “Why is it covered in sawdust?”  
  
“It soaks up moisture.” Lafayette explained. “You know, from boots and such.”  
  
“Whatever, I saw a sign for free coffee outside.” Alex interrupted, his shoulders hunched in a toddler-like pout. He’d been in a mood for the past few hours, ever since they crossed the border into New Hampshire. They had all known convincing Alex to take a trip upstate would be a headache, and they thought they had planned accordingly. Apparently, they had forgotten to account for the young man’s caffeination needs.  
  
“Would you look at this flyer, though?” Hercules had barely noticed his companion’s complaints. He was in awe of this store. Having spent almost his whole life in the city, a small upstate supermarket was novel to him. “Look at the prices! Bagels are two for three dollars! That’s packages. Avocados for eighty-nine cents! Juicy California nectarines!  
  
“I’m gonna check by the bakery.” Alex grumped, wandering off like Herc hadn’t spoken. Hercules didn’t even mind. It was Alex. He’d be back to himself after a couple free cups. Staring at the colorful sale flyer, he absent-mindedly grabbed a cart.  
  
“Hercules, _mon chou_ , we’re just getting supplies for the road.” Laf reminded him. “You shouldn’t need a whole cart.”  
  
“Uh-huh.” Hercules was already long gone, mentally perusing the aisles ahead. There was organic milk for less than four bucks. There was bread for a dollar. There were Juicy California Nectarines!  
  
Hercules didn’t even realize he was alone until he was somewhere around the yogurt and cheese. Had the others abandoned him, or had he wandered away? He couldn’t care less. There were yogurt cups for fifty cents! Herc grabbed twenty. Cottage cheese, two dollars for a large container. Did anyone even like cottage cheese? He grabbed it anyway, along with that gallon of milk.  
  
“Mom! Brie cheese is on sale again!”  
  
Brie? Following the voice, Herc turned a corner to find a case of fancy imported cheeses. Gouda, feta, swiss, muenster, camembert, brie… Herc grabbed one of each, earning stares from the young girl and her mother who had led him there. Laf would probably like them. Or John. Or… Someone. Next to it was a case of hummus. Sriracha hummus for three dollars? He snagged two.  
  
Looking up from the fluorescent refrigerator lights, Herc found the rest of the store laid out before him. Aisle upon aisle opened up to cases of meat and fish. Rotisserie chicken sat warming across from a full service deli and seafood counter. They had ground beef packed to order. They had a collection of organic chicken meatballs and sausage. They had fresh caught shellfish and trout. They had a buffet of olives and feta cheese. Beyond that, the produce section beckoned with colorful tones, both foreign and domestic.  
  
But Hercules had already spotted his destination, a practice almost unknown to him in Manhattan, though he understood the concept.  
  
Nearly crashing into an elderly woman in a motor cart, Herc made a beeline for a sign that read, “Discounted Items”.  
  
\--  
  
“What the Hell are you going to do with five cans of sriracha tomatoes?”  
  
Herc had heard John sidle up beside him a moment ago, but had been too busy checking prices to acknowledge him. Now, he shrugged. “Make something spicy.”  
  
“We’re on a road trip, Herc. You can’t- Is that Vitamin C for five dollars?” John picked up the bottle, turning it over in his hands. “This is a good brand, too. You see this?”  
  
“See it.” Herc snatched it from John, tossing it into his cart. “Like it. Own it.”  
  
John inspected the ever-growing pile of purchases. “So, are we planning to tie Alex to the roof, then? Not that I’d mind too much, with the way he’s been bellyaching, but Alex might take offense.”  
  
“Alex always takes offense.” Hercules pointed out, now inspecting a can of mandarin oranges. It was only fifteen cents! “He’ll be fine.”  
  
“You know, I was joking earlier, but now I’m a little scared by the fact that you’re not denying planning to tie Alex to the roof.” John commented warily. “That’s my boyfriend.”  
  
“So?” Herc pointed out. “Everything here is less than a dollar. I’ll tie you all to the roof if I have to.”  
  
“Laf is right, you’re scary when you shop.” John said.  
  
“Then get out of my way.” Hercules had finished with the discount shelf and had spotted a sign for Ritz crackers, two for five dollars. “We need something to hold all our cheese.”  
  
“Cheese?” John tried to ask, but his only answer was a speeding cart he was forced to dodge away from as Herc raced past, causing a woman to crash into a cooler in order to avoid him.  
  
The cracker aisle also housed cookies, jellies, and bread, all of which Herc was sure they would need. The aisle led him to a bakery section, where every type of freshly-made bread he could imagine was laid out before him. He reached for a French baguette, but another hand snatched it up first.  
  
“Hotels usually come with mini-fridges, Hercules. Not industrial-sized coolers.” Lafayette pointed out, blocking Herc from the baguette basket. “Where were you planning to keep all your… Suburban souvenirs?”  
  
“I’ll find a way.” Hercules told them matter-of-factly. “We’ll eat a lot of it.”  
  
“You overestimate our appetites.” Lafayette replied. “I mean to ask, have you seen Alex? I came to find him by the coffee, but he’s not here.”  
  
“Haven’t seen him, love.” Hercules told him. “Maybe he’s by the juicy California nectarines. I’ll go check.”  
  
“Sure…” Laf didn’t sound too convinced, but they let Herc go anyway.  
  
The produce aisle was a rainbow of reasonable-priced nutrients. A bag of potatoes for four dollars. A head of cauliflower for a buck. Forty-nine cent tomatoes. Pineapples, two for three dollars. Avocados, ninety-seven cents each. It all went into the cart.  
  
Herc wasn’t sure what dragonfruit or Asian pears were, but he was sure they were worth trying. He nestled them next to his most precious purchase, the juicy California nectarines. He’d bought two bags of those beauties. Along with three different kinds of lettuce and a watermelon.  
  
“Say that to MY FACE!”  
  
There was only one sound that could rip Hercules out of his bargain shopping revelry, and that was Alex shouting in that particular tone of voice.  
  
Herc scanned the area, standing on tiptoe to look over displays, and finally spotted Alex, free coffee in hand, staring down a young man in a ballcap who seemed to be using his shopping basket as a shield. Hercules made a beeline for the pair, sending a display of grapefruits toppling.  
  
“I meant what I said.” Ballcap guy replied. “We deport the immigrants, and I won’t have to deal with an overabundance of people like you, yelling at me and drinking all my free coffee.”  
  
“You deport all the immigrants, be ready to deport yourself, too.” Alex threatened. “The only people in this country who aren’t immigrants are the Native Americans.”  
  
“You know what I mean.”  
  
“Yeah, I know, _white people_.” Alex spat the last two words. “Let me tell you a few things about immigrants.”  
  
Hercules grabbed Alex by the shoulder. “Let it be, Alex, he’s not worth it.”  
  
Alex looked like he was ready to stomp his foot in protest, but he restrained himself. Still, he practically shook with rage, like one of those little teacup dogs when they get really ticked. “Did you hear this guy?” Alex asked, gesturing wildly towards ballcap guy, who held his basket a little higher for protection. “He wants to have me deported simply because I drank a cup of coffee!”  
  
“Alex, you are one of the brightest minds in Manhattan.” Hercules reminded him. “So why are you wasting time arguing with someone that obviously dense?” Ballcap guy opened his mouth to respond, but Hercules shot him a stern glare and his jaw snapped back shut.  
  
“He was wrong, though!” Alex defended himself weakly, though his enthusiasm didn’t waver. “Am I supposed to allow people to wallow in their self-imposed ignorance?”  
  
“In this case, yes.” Hercules used his grip on Alex’s shoulder to steer the smaller man away from the near-duel. “I don’t need you getting us kicked out of the store, not when my shopping cart is only halfway full.”  
  
“Herc- Halfway full?” Alex noticed the cart for the first time. “Hercules, where are you going to put all this stuff? We’re traveling on the Interstate, not the Oregon Trail.”  
  
“There was talk of tying you to the roof.” Hercules explained. “John’s idea, not mine.”  
  
Alex inspected the contents of the cart with a critical eye. “What are we going to do with five different kinds of cheese?”  
  
“Eat it, obviously.”  
  
“All of it?”  
  
Hercules nodded.  
  
“Today?”  
  
He nodded again. “It’s cheese. You can never have enough cheese.”  
  
“Should I remind you that one of us is lactose intolerant?” Alex argued.  
  
Hercules shrugged. “It’s never stopped you before.”  
  
“Point.” Alex muttered, watching Hercules carefully inspect an ear of corn. “What about hummus? We won’t have room for hummus if we eat all the cheese.”  
  
“Well, you can eat it, since you’re suddenly so concerned about your dairy intake.”  
  
Alex sputtered in frustration as Herc added eight ears of corn to his shopping cart. Breaking up that fight had thrown Hercules off of his shopping groove, but he quickly pinpointed his next target, zeroing in on a case of chicken. Alex trailed along behind as Herc sorted through a plethora of chicken parts, still muttering complaints, both about Herc’s shopping and his abandoned debate.  
  
“What are you going to do with a package of uncooked chicken breast?” Alex asked. “What if we don’t have a place to cook it in the hotel?”  
  
Hercules shrugged. “Campfire?”  
  
“I have a feeling the hotel will take offense to us setting an open flame in the middle of their suite.”  
  
“Then we’ll just have to cook it on top of that hot head of yours.” Hercules replied. “I really didn’t want to, because I hate to over-season the meat, but maybe we can balance out the salt somehow.”  
  
Alex sputtered some more, practically growling when Herc reached past him to grab a bag of kale. “Lafayette will never let you buy all of this stuff!”  
  
“They’re my boyfriend, not my boss.” Herc reminded him. “They don’t “let” me do anything.”  
  
“Sure…” Alex rolled his eyes. “Well, they certainly wouldn’t approve.”  
  
“I don’t approve of them refusing to put all the DVDs back in their cases.” Hercules told him. “Doesn’t stop them.”  
  
“I think this situation might be a bit different.” Alex said.  
  
Hercules just shrugged, his attentions now on a display of fancy mushrooms. But shopping with Alexander was like shopping with a very nosy toddler, and it wasn’t long before the smaller man was leaning around Hercules’ arm. “What’s the difference between Portobello and Shittake?”  
  
“Taste, size, uses.” Hercules replied. “For instance, Shittake is commonly used in hot and sour soup, and portobellos are larger, therefore the perfect size to plug your mouth up with.”  
  
Alexander pouted along behind as Hercules continued his mission, taking on four more kinds of fruit and a quart of vanilla ice cream.  
  
“I’m hungry.” Alex whined, staring longingly into the cart.  
  
“Then it’s a good thing I’m getting all this food.”  
  
Alex groaned. “Where are John and Laf? We should talk about getting something to eat.”  
  
Hercules glared at him, gesturing violently at the full shopping cart between them.  
  
Alex rolled his eyes. “Lafayette won’t let you buy all that. Besides, I’m hungry _now_.”  
  
“Well you’re going to have to wait. We’re shopping now.” Herc stated, moving on to the day old bread rack. Perfectly good bread, for less than two dollars? You could never have enough bread.  
  
“But shopping is boring.” Alex complained. “I’ve been in the car all day and I need to eat.”  
  
“God, Alex! How old are you? Four?” He shot Alex another pointed glare, but Alex just groaned dramatically, leaning against the cart as if he had suddenly lost the strength to stand, arm draped over his empty, suffering gut. When Herc turned away to ignore the gross display, he made eye contact with a woman who had a sobbing child teething on a package of pasta in her cart and a sulking preteen dragging her feet behind her. They exchanged a knowing nod, making Herc feel about ten times older than he was.  
  
“We’re leaving.” He announced, u-turning his cart so sharply he nearly knocked Alex into a chip rack.  
  
“Finally!” Alex had the tone of a soldier just given military leave. He whipped out his phone and texted John and Laf, letting them know Hercules had finally satisfied his consumerism.  
  
Finding an open check-out was easy enough. Hercules ignored Alex’s begging for candy and gum, along with his incessant critiques of magazine cover headlines with a quiet patience the Catholic Church would have canonized. The young guy at the register caught Herc’s eye in a curious way. He was sharply dressed, ironed white button up with dark red tie, hair combed neatly to the side. He smiled too brightly, greeted them too enthusiastically, and seemed genuinely concerned if they had found everything already. A perfectly-placed nametag announced to Hercules that young Brad was gearing up to make employee of the month this quarter.  
  
“Is that debit or credit?” Brad asked when Hercules pulled a card out of his wallet.  
  
“Credit.” Herc replied, waiting for the card swiper to tell him he could swipe. It was still on the “Wait for Cashier” screen.  
  
“Do you have ID?”  
  
Herc was taken aback. No one ever asked him for ID. He glanced down at the card in his hand. It was Lafayette’s. All of Herc’s major funds had gone to paying for the trip itself, and Laf had said they’d help pay for food…  
  
“Not for this card…” He replied.  
  
Brad raised an eyebrow. “What?”  
  
“This… It’s my boyfriend’s card.” Herc explained.  
  
“I’m sorry, sir, but you can’t use someone else’s card unless it’s signed. Identity theft laws.” Brad replied.  
  
“Well hold on, I’m sure they’re around here somewhere.” Hercules said, scanning the crowds for Lafayette.  
  
“Oh come on, let him use the card.” Alex said impatiently. “You’re getting paid. What, you think we swiped some guy’s card to buy… Five different kinds of cheese and mouth-sized mushrooms?”  
  
“Our store is committed to preventing identity theft. If your friend has another card-“  
  
“Laf! Lafayette!” Hercules shouted spotting him. He waved a hand wildly to get his boyfriend’s attention. “Hey, Laf! OY, LARGE BAGUETTE, OVER HERE!”  
  
Lafayette gave Hercules a look that signaled Herc would pay for that pet name later. They hurried over, with John trailing behind, seemingly unwilling to be associated with the rest of his gang. Already, eyes were turning to Large Baguette as they squeezed their way into the aisle where the blackest, manliest, white suburban mom was checking out with his surly-looking bearded toddler. “What is it, Hercules?”  
  
“This guy won’t let me use your card without ID.” Herc replied sheepishly, handing Lafayette the card.  
  
“You’re… You’re using my card…” Lafayette surveyed the mounds of shopping bags some poor bagger was trying to strategically fit back into the cart, like real-life tetris. “ _Mon dieu_ , Hercules. What have you done? You can’t just- Oh, why did I let you-?” Laf glanced around angrily, noticing the cashier staring at them expectantly, along with the long line of impatient shoppers forming behind them. “ _Baise-le_.” They muttered under their breath, ripping their ID out of their phone case and jabbing it towards the cashier, all the while never breaking the death glare they were now bearing down upon their boyfriend. Herc, in the meantime, was looking everywhere but at Laf, smiling awkwardly in return to blank stares from fellow shoppers.  
  
Brad inspected both ID and credit card closely, his brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think the names on these match.”  
  
Lafayette snatched the cards back, inspecting them both. “I used a different abbreviation on this card. I have a very long name, so I shorten it. Hold on, I will find another card-“  
  
“I’m sorry… Sir?” The implied question at the end of his sentence, along with his tone, made Lafayette cringe. “This is all a bit too… Complicated. I’m not sure if I can cash you out under these circumstances.”  
  
“What’s more complicated for you? Name or gender?” Alex snapped. “I don’t think the gender binary has anything to do with the price of discount bread and-“ John jerked Alex back, silencing him.  
  
“I’ve seen too many different names, and, you’ll have to forgive me, but according to my training that raises suspicion. One said Gilbert something, and the other said… Mar… Markwiss?”  
  
“Marquis.” Lafayette corrected him coldly. “It is a title.”  
  
“In any case, Mr. La-Fattey-“  
  
“Lafayette!”  
  
“Excuse me?”  
  
“La. Fay. Et.” Laf ground out each syllable through clenched teeth. “Lafayette. It’s not that difficult, even John can say it, and his French is abysmal at best.”  
  
“Hey!”  
  
“Not now!” Laf snapped. “I am… What’s the word? _Fuming_.” Herc had to agree, he could almost see the cartoon smoke plumes erupting from Laf’s ears.  
  
The cashier sighed. “I’m sorry, I can call over a manager-“  
  
“I’ll pay for it.” John said, stepping in with his card and ID at the ready. “Even after that comment about my French, you know I’m still learning.”  
  
Lafayette rolled their eyes but thanked him as he handed the cashier the two cards. Brad gave John’s payment the same scrutiny he had applied to Laf’s before returning the cards to John with a sigh. Behind their party, the ever-growing line of waiting customers let out a collective groan.  
  
“I’m sorry, sir. We don’t accept South Carolina licenses.”  
  
“What?!” John snapped, snatching his cards back. “Why?!”  
  
“It’s store protocol, sir.”  
  
“Typical.” A voice from the next line over spoke up. They turned to see Alex’s ballcap-wearing opponent shaking his head at the group. “Trying to shop with some phony foreign ID.”  
  
“Foreign?!” Alex shouted. “HE’S FROM SOUTH CAROLINA, YOU DIPSHIT! YOU WANNA MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN AND YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW YOUR FUCKING STATES!”  
  
It took both John and Herc to stop Alex from launching himself over the small woman at the next register to get to the instigating failed geography student. Brad, in the meantime, did end up calling his manager, who decided the best course of action was to send the four New Yorkers shopping elsewhere.  
  
As they reached the car, empty handed, the brisk New England air slowly cooling their high tempers, Herc turned back, staring forlornly at a paradise that had no place for him. Through the window, he could see two employees in green aprons pushing his full cart away, back into the store, where his treasures would be returned to their shelves.  
  
Alex sidled up next to him, brushing his now-messy hair back awkwardly. “Hey, uh, sorry about your groceries.” He said. “I guess me threatening to choke the guy with his own headgear might have attributed to us getting kicked out.”  
  
Hercules sighed. “Yeah, maybe.”  
  
Alex reached into his jacket. He took Herc’s hand and placed some small and round into his palm. “I know it’s not everything you wanted, but I swiped it from the cart as we were leaving. Little act of revenge. You can have it.”  
  
As Alex turned back to get in the car, Hercules looked down at his hand. He was holding one perfectly ripe juicy California nectarine. Somehow, he managed a smile.  
  
“Thanks, Alex.” He slipped the nectarine into his own jacket and got into the car, letting the sound of Lafayette lecturing them all in what sounded like three different languages drown out his longing for fresh baked bread, discount racks, and fifteen kinds of cheese.  
  
One juicy California nectarine from a friend. That could be enough.


End file.
